


Back Where I Belong

by whoknows



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Barebacking, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whoknows/pseuds/whoknows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting.</p>
<p>It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back.</p>
<p>Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?”</p>
<p>“He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back Where I Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whitestormsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitestormsky/gifts).



> Hi, baelouis! This doesn't fill your prompt exactly, but hopefully you enjoy it anyway!

Harry’s trying to have a conversation with Nick, who he hasn’t seen in nearly three months, but the way Nick’s eyes keep darting over his shoulder every few seconds is quite distracting.

It’s ironic, because at least a quarter of the reason that he’s even talking to Nick in the first place is because he needs a distraction. He’s all too aware of exactly what’s going on behind his back.

Nick is the one who finally brings it up. “Do you think he’s doing it to spite you?”

“He’s definitely doing it to spite me,” Harry answers tightly, resisting the urge to crane his neck around so he can see. He clutches his drink a little tighter, trying to keep his tenuous control over his own movements.

Nick watches in silence for another minute, until Harry almost can’t take it anymore. “You can quit perving on him anytime now.”

“I don’t know if you’ve seen him tonight, but he’s looking rather stunning, Harold,” Nick retorts immediately.

“I have seen him,” Harry says. He doesn’t add _that’s why I can’t look at him right now_ , no matter how much he wants to. Louis isn’t exactly dressed to the nines, but he’s done up in dark jeans,a nice t-shirt and a blazer. There isn’t too much product in his hair and he’s got just enough scruff going on that he looks a little dangerous, exactly like the type of boy Harry’s mum would have warned him about if she were the type to judge people based on their looks.

Or if Louis hadn’t been one of the most clean cut boys Harry’s ever known when they first met. A lot has changed since then.

“So you know that he’s got the attention of every guy who’s even the slightest bit gay-curious and most of the girls?” Nick asks. The song changes to something slow and dirty, and Harry tenses before he’s even fully turned around.

Exactly like he’d expected, Louis is dancing with some bloke, way closer than he has any business dancing with anyone who’s not Harry.

Harry is loathe to admit it, but his blood starts to burn in his veins.

“That’s no different than any other room he walks into,” Harry says, forcing himself to turn back around. If he has to watch that any longer he’s going to snap.

“Pretty sure what he’s doing right now is different than what he does in other rooms,” Nick says.

Harry grits his teeth and resolutely doesn’t turn around. “He’s his own person. He does what he wants.”

Nick’s quiet for a minute. “You want me to go extract him for you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Harry says.

 

He doesn’t even have time to start getting antsy before Nick reappears, towing Louis along with a hand firm on his bicep.

“You rang?” Louis asks snidely, and now that he’s closer Harry can see the flush of a few too many drinks sitting high on his cheekbones.

It only adds to how stunning he is.

And maybe Harry’s had a drink or two too many himself, because he doesn’t even register Nick leaving them alone. “You were dancing with some guy.”

It comes out a bit harsher than he means it to. Louis’ face shuts down faster than he can blink. “Good observation, Styles. Really, A+ detective work there.”

Distantly, Harry’s awake of his face flushing even more, the drinks he’s had bringing all of his emotions to the surface.

Not that he’s ever really been able to hide them from Louis.

“You’re getting everyone’s attention,” Harry says. His brain feels a little fried, partially from the drinks and partially because it always does when they’re fighting, and this definitely feels like they’re fighting.

Louis rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he says, and then he walks away, leaving Harry blinking dumbly at his back.

 

Harry tries to let it go, he really does. The problem with that is that half an hour later, after he’s finished his drink and gone in search of a new one, Liam waylays him, trying to suck him into a conversation about polar bears, and that’s when Harry sees it.

Louis’ dancing has gone from dirty to straight up grinding.

Liam’s still talking, he’s pretty sure, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is showing Louis who he belongs with, regardless of the consequences or who might see them.

He dumps his drink off on a passing waiter, but in the time it takes him to do that he loses sight of both Louis and the guy he was dancing with.

For a second, Harry’s heart stops. Then his brain remembers that this is Louis and Louis’ only goal when he gets like this is to get fucked.

By Harry, obviously. Louis might be a little bit of a cockslut but he’s only a slut for Harry’s cock.

None of that changes the fact that Louis has spent the whole night trying to get under Harry’s skin by flirting with other guys, and it’s a ploy that never fails.

Now the problem is that Louis has started a game of cat and mouse - one that can only end with him caught on Harry’s cock - and Harry’s pulse thrums a little faster. If Louis wants to be caught Harry will definitely catch him.

The downside to this plan is that the party that they’re at could more accurately be described as a rave, and the closer to the center of it that Harry gets the harder it is to see anything at all.

The longer he spends looking, the heavier his cock gets. It’s such a bad idea to be doing this here, where anyone could catch a glimpse of exactly how turned on - how frustrated - he is, but the alternative is to let some random guy puts his hands all over Louis, and Harry has had enough of that to last him a lifetime.

Of course, that makes the fact that he finally finds Louis caught up in Nick’s hands all the more confusing. Logically, his brain knows that Nick is only keeping Louis from letting another guy put his hands all over him, because he knows how Harry gets, but his libido is telling him to tear Nick apart as quick as possible, get it over with so he can get his cock into Louis.

“Think I’ve found something that belongs to you, Haz,” Nick says. Louis’ eyes glitter in the dim lighting. He turns around, despite the grip Nick has on him, and slides his arms up around Nick’s neck.

“Could belong to you instead,” he purrs, arching up against Nick’s body, and that thing that Harry has been keeping in check since the evening began just snaps.

He reaches out, and he means to pull Louis right out of Nick’s arms, but Louis knows him too well, twisting away and back into the crowd before Harry’s even managed to brush his sleeve.

Harry considers going after him. He wants to - he really fucking wants to - but he’s not drunk enough for that to be a good idea, so he snags another drink off a tray and downs it before he starts second thinking that decision.

He can wait until they get home.

 

Louis has three drinks before Zayn manages to convince him to go home, shooting bewildered looks in Harry’s direction. Harry spends the entire time trying desperately not to look at either of them, but it’s hard. Louis is the person that Harry always seeks out in any room - it’s just habit by now.

Harry doesn’t want to say that Zayn controls Louis, exactly, but he does a pretty good job at distracting him enough that he only flirts with random guys half-heartedly, in between nodding along to whatever Zayn’s telling him.

It’s not enough to let Harry calm down entirely. The thought of someone else with his hands on Louis, with his hands in places that only Harry’s hands have ever been, it makes his blood boil. He doesn’t actually think that Louis would ever follow through with it, but clearly he’s doing it to get a reaction, and if that’s the case Harry’s going to give him a fucking reaction.

He’s all sweet, flirty body language with any remotely attractive guy that approaches him, practically begging to be taken home, but the only person he’s going home with is Harry.

This is all a show that Harry doesn’t even remotely appreciate.

 

He slides into the car after Louis, ignoring his tight lipped silence and the way he immediately pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it, like Harry isn’t even worth a second of his time.

Harry’s fingers itch with the urge to show him exactly how worth his time he is.

They can’t do that here, though, so Harry settles back into his seat and watches the streets of London fly by.

Louis is out of the car before it’s even come to a complete stop, hurling their front door open and letting it bang closed behind him before Harry’s even finished saying good night to their driver.

Harry grits his teeth and opens the door slowly, taking extra care so he doesn’t slam it the same way that Louis had.

He makes sure to turn all the locks before making his way upstairs, unsure of what he’s going to find. He’s definitely not expecting to get a blanket to the face, followed immediately by two pillows.

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” Louis announces.

Harry’s pulse had calmed back to its normal rate in the car. Now, it speeds up again. His jaw clenches. “I’m not sleeping on the couch.”

“Well then you can go stay with Grimshaw, or sleep outside for all I care. You sure as shit aren’t sleeping in here.”

“This is our bed,” Harry points out - rather reasonably, he thinks. “I have just as much right to sleep here are you do.”

Louis folds his arms across his chest. He probably thinks that it makes him look more intimidating, but he’s already taken off his socks and shoes. It’s hard to make that look intimidating.

“You aren’t sleeping in here,” he repeats, enunciating each work clearly, like he thinks that’s going to make a difference.

Harry folds his own arms across his chest. “You’ve been acting like a spoilt brat all day,” he says evenly.

“If I’m so spoiled why do you want to sleep with me?” Louis demands, throwing one of his own pillows at Harry’s face.

That’s it. Harry’s had enough of this. He smacks the pillow down onto the floor before it can hit him and takes two steps towards Louis before he’s stopped in his tracks.

“Barely even looked twice at me and now you’re acting like I’m the one who’s done something wrong,” Louis snaps. “Shouldn’t be surprised that there are other people out there who want a piece of this, even if you don’t.”

That thing inside of Harry that had snapped earlier snaps even farther now. He’s moving before he realizes it, crossing the room with big strides, too impatient to walk normally.

Louis never feels particularly big in his arms, but he feels even smaller now, for some reason, despite the way he’s trying to dig his pointy elbows into Harry’s ribs. It’s not hard to hold him still.

Harry starts moving them, hauling Louis over to the bed, lifting him off of his feet with every other step because Louis isn’t co-operating. He just. It’s so.

If Louis thinks, even for a second, that Harry doesn’t want him like he wants air, clearly he must be doing something wrong.

He’s got plenty of ways to prove it to him, though.

It takes some maneuvering, but he manages to get Louis splayed across his lap, using one hand on the nape of his neck to pin him down.

“Spent the entire night trying to get the attention of any half-decent looking bloke, didn’t you?” Harry asks. He brings his hand down on Louis’ arse before he can answer, hard enough that it echoes in the otherwise quiet room.

Louis’ gasp is soft and mostly muffled by the duvet, but Harry hears it as clearly as always. He gives Louis another two slaps, pretty much just warming him up, and he’s not exactly angry anymore, but there’s a reason that this is the first thing that he thought of to do.

The reason is that Louis fucking loves being spanked. It’s not something that Harry would have ever guessed, way back in the beginning, because Louis likes getting his way and making a general nuisance of himself without any repercussions, but.

Louis had described it as knowing that he’s got Harry’s undivided attention, once, and that doesn’t explain why it’s different than anything else they could do, but it always gets Louis off so hard.

It does something different for Harry, obviously, but he likes it just as much - there’s something so incredibly satisfying about knowing that Louis’ arse is getting red and sore and that it’s because of him.

“Wanted my attention, though,” Harry continues. His voice is precariously close to shaking, so he gives Louis another two smacks to give himself time to get it under control.

Louis makes another noise, one that’s somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Harry practically lives for that noise, so he lays into him properly, spanking Louis until his hand has started to tingle.

The only thing about spanking being one of Louis’ favourite sex things is that it’s practically impossible to see his face. Harry’s seen it after, of course, all pink and flushed and a little bit wet, sometimes, if he does it long enough, but he’s always wanted to see Louis’ face when his hand lands.

Maybe it’s time they put that standing mirror to better use.

He can’t keep thinking about how pretty it would be without wanting to see Louis’ face, and his hand is sore anyway, so he turns Louis over gently, bending down to kiss him before he’s even finished.

Louis opens up for it easily, twisting his fingers in Harry’s shirt. Harry is vaguely aware of the dull ache in his back from the position, but that will never matter when he has Louis’ mouth under his, pliant and warm and so fucking sweet.

He’ll never get tired of kissing Louis.

The kiss has to break eventually, though, so Harry pulls back, rubbing his thumb over Louis’ bottom lip almost obsessively.

There really isn’t anything like Louis’ mouth.

“I was kind of being a dick, wasn’t I?” Harry asks, because one of them has to be the first to admit fault. Louis blinks heavily, eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks. He didn’t cry, but his eyes are a little red-rimmed like he was almost there, despite the fact that there was two layers between their skin.

“Kind of might be putting it a little mildly,” Louis says. His voice is a little raspy, the way it gets when he’s turned on, and there’s no missing the way his dick is pressing against the zip of his trousers.

“I don’t think I can entirely be blamed,” Harry says. “My only other option was to go over to you and show the entire world exactly who you belong with, so.”

He can’t quite keep the bitterness out of his voice. Louis pats his hand once before he heaves himself up out of Harry’s lap, but only so he can straddle his hips instead, pushing him back against the mattress.

“Soon,” is all he says, but it’s enough to get the thoughts out of Harry’s head and remind him of the weight of his own cock, thick and still trapped in his own jeans.

God, Louis is so pretty, even when he’s been flirting with other guys because he wants Harry’s attention. Maybe especially then.

Louis’ kissing him again before he has the chance to tell him that, warm and slick. The only appropriate response is to kiss back and grab two handfuls of freshly spanked arse, so that’s what Harry does, squeezing a little because he can’t not.

Sometimes he can’t believe his life and how lucky he is - a lot of which is to do with the crazy success they’ve had, but just as much of it is to do with how lucky he feels to have Louis.

They’re suited to each other pretty much perfectly, Harry thinks, and if it wasn’t for the whole being stuck in the closet thing Harry knows the boys would hate them a little, because of how rarely they have a serious fight.

“I hate that I’m so attracted to you, sometimes,” Harry says, tightening his grip so he can roll them over without sacrificing his handfuls of arse.

“Sometimes I hate that you look like a creepy stalker frog,” Louis says. His thighs spread automatically, so Harry fits between them just right. They’ve done this so many times that it must be second nature by now.

“No you don’t,” Harry says, leaning back just long enough that he can strip them both out of their shirts. It leaves Louis’ chest bare, which was the intention, but it’s so hard not to focus on Louis’ tiny little pink nipples, already tightening up from the cool air.

Harry wants to put his mouth on them, warm them up a little. He’s never been good at denying himself what he wants, so he does, attaching his mouth to the one on the left first.

Louis’ immediate reaction is always gratifying - he arches up into it right away and puts a hand in Harry’s hair. He always complains afterwards when Harry makes it hurt, but they both know that he likes it, so Harry sucks until it has to be tender. It’s hard to ignore the way his own cock is crying out to be free, though, and that’s the only reason that he stops.

He undoes his jeans one handed, and then reaches for Louis’. He has to bat Louis’ hand away a couple times, because he always thinks that he’s helping when he’s really not, but he manages to get them open.

“I hate your face,” Louis maintains, wiggling his hips like he thinks that’s going to do anything. 

Maybe it does, actually, because Harry takes the hint and starts peeling the jeans down his thighs.

“That’s a shame. I really like yours,” Harry says. He has to move so Louis can kick them off, and then he might as well get rid of his own trousers, which takes another minute when they get stuck on his shoes. He makes do with kicking his socks and shoes off for now, rubbing his hands over Louis’ chest.

“That’s because my face is the most beautiful one to ever have graced this planet,” Louis says. Harry has to kiss him again for being such a brat. Part of him wants to get lost in Louis’ mouth, but his cock has a very clear idea of what it wants to do.

Where it wants to go.

“I especially like your mouth,” Harry says, tapping his index finger against Louis’ bottom lip. “Like putting my cock in it.”

“That’s a shame. I’ve just recently decided that I’m not going to be putting any more cocks into it,” Louis announces.

Harry snorts. It’s not a very sexy sound, but that’s alright. “The day you pass up a chance to put a cock in your mouth is the day that I stop getting asked about who I’m dating this week.”

Louis raises his eyebrows. It’s a good look for him, but there’s not much that isn’t a good look on him. “You calling me a slag, Styles?”

Harry pushes his pants down his thighs, leaving them tangled around his knees for a minute. His cock slaps up against his belly, excited by the mere mention of Louis’ mouth. Not to mention the fact that he’s had Louis underneath him for the past five minutes.

“Just stating the facts,” he says. “You like a cock in your mouth, I like putting mine in your mouth. It’s a match made in heaven.”

Louis’ eye roll is over-dramatized, but that’s Louis. Harry finishes kicking his pants off, then strips Louis of his so that they’re equally naked.

“Do you think there’s ever going to be the right words for you to fully understand how much I hate you?” Louis wonders. His cock is leaking against his bare belly, still tanned a nice warm colour that Harry always wants to sink his teeth into.

“I think _I love you_ about covers it,” Harry says. He catches the half-arsed slap Louis tries to hit him with and leans down again, partially so they can kiss and partially so his cock gets some much needed contact.

What. The prettiest boy he’s ever had the pleasure of looking at is underneath him totally naked. His cock deserves a reward for being able to handle that.

“I might start hating you for real if you don’t get on with it,” Louis says, pointedly wiggling his hips and pressing his cock against Harry’s skin. He’s getting Harry messy, a little sticky already.

“Foreplay is important,” Harry says, but it’s weak and he knows it. It’s not like his own cock isn’t eager to get on with the program as well, so Harry leans over to rummage through the bedside table for the lube.

It’s mostly empty when he comes up with it, but there’s enough left for tonight. They can rock-paper-scissor for whose turn it is to buy more in the morning.

Harry will probably win and then let Louis talk him into doing it anyway. Nine times out of ten Louis always goes with rock.

Now, though, he concentrates on the task at hand, squeezing some out onto his fingers and warming it up quickly. He hitches one of Louis’ legs up just enough that he has a better angle and presses his index finger in, watching the way Louis’ face changes.

“I love you a lot,” Harry murmurs, wiggling his finger.

“I should bloody hope so,” Louis snarks, and the fact that he’s still so snarky even though Harry’s fingering him means that he must not be doing it well enough.

And Harry’s desire to turn Louis into a breathless, whimpery mess when they have sex is well documented.

Well, not that well, obviously, but it’s the thought that counts.

He pulls his finger out and flips Louis over onto his stomach. Louis isn’t expecting it, which is the only reason that he goes easily, landing face first in his own pillow.

“Gonna give you something to make you love me even more,” Harry says, and hunkers down, moving a little irritably until he’s in a good enough position.

All the tension in Louis’ body completely bleeds out with the first swipe of Harry’s tongue over his hole. Harry can’t actually see it, but he’d be willing to bet at least half of his net worth on Louis’ arms twitching on the mattress.

The taste of lube on his tongue isn’t exactly pleasant, but that’s always easy enough to ignore when he’s got Louis falling apart because of him. This is another thing that he’d like to see Louis’ reaction to, because god knows that he’s gorgeous afterwards. If only they were regular people and they could film it without worrying about it leaking.

Although if it leaked when they were regular people they’d probably be mistaken for porn stars. Or Louis would, at least - he takes it better than every porn star Harry’s ever seen.

“Babe,” Louis gasps, hips twitching down onto Harry’s face. Harry grabs him and settles him, licking into him with more intent. Once he gets past the taste of lube all he can taste is Louis, a little sweaty with the lingering hint of soap, and that will never be something that doesn’t turn him on.

He could definitely get Louis off like this. He has gotten Louis off like this, and half the time it doesn’t even take longer than ten minutes, but there’s something to be said for the way Louis’ face looks when he has him on his back, cock pressed into him so deep that their hips are flush together, listening to way he sounds.

That’s what Harry wants right now. 

He’s nothing if not good at getting what he wants, so he gives Louis a last, warm swipe with his tongue and sits back, rolling his jaw to ease the stiffness a little, before he turns Louis back over carefully, letting him settle into the pillows the way he likes.

“Do you know,” Harry starts, hitching one of Louis’ thighs up around his waist. Louis’ head lolls against the pillow for a brief second before he pins Harry with an expectant look. “You looked bloody gorgeous tonight. Might have earned its way into my top five favourite outfits you’ve ever worn.”

Louis’ mouth curves into a smile. “Hasn’t knocked out that time I wore your jersey and nothing else, I hope.”

That time, like he’s only done it once. The last time he did it he let Harry fuck him in the kitchen while he was still wearing it, even though he put up a front about being worried about getting the kitchen messy. Like he’s ever been the one to clean it. “That one’s in the number one slot. It’d be hard to replace that.”

He sinks two fingers back into the warmth of Louis’ hole, sliding in easily because he has enough skills to re-lube them without jostling their position. Louis blinks, slow and heavy, but his gaze doesn’t waver from Harry’s face.

Harry likes that. He likes that he’s the only thing his boy concentrates on during sex - especially because it’s a boy who gets distracted as easily as Louis does.

“What about the time with the pants?” Louis murmurs, letting Harry push the knee that’s not on his side further out, giving him more space. His eyes always look so blue when they’re doing this.

“What pants?” Harry asks, like there’s any way that he doesn’t know what Louis is talking about.

Like there’s any way he could forget what a great fucking birthday present that had been.

Louis’ smile gets a little dirtier. Harry keeps moving his fingers, opening Louis up, but it’s mostly on autopilot. It’s hard to decide what to concentrate on when Louis’ face looks like that.

“You saying I should get rid of them then? Was planning on using ‘em for our anniversary, but I can always think up something else.”

Harry’s mouth gets a little dry. His fingers don’t stop their slow, gentle stroking, but that’s only because four years with Louis has left him capable of opening him up even when they’re completed smashed and about to fall on their faces.

He’s good at fingering, what can he say.

“Thought about doing the full get-up, this time, you know,” Louis continues. “The works.”

That. Harry has to kiss him again, more bitingly this time, fucking his tongue straight into Louis’ mouth almost like he’s doing with his fingers, reveling in the way Louis opens up for it immediately.

Thinking about it - about Louis waiting for him in those skimpy little black panties, hidden underneath a skirt or a dress or summat, lips slick with gloss - reminds him of the last time, of Louis bouncing on his cock with the panties pushed to the side until he couldn’t anymore and let Harry roll him over and fuck him halfway off the bed.

As he said, it had been a great fucking birthday present.

“Please do that,” Harry says, crushing the words into Louis’ mouth. He slips a third finger in beside the first two, making room for his cock inside the most perfect arse he’s ever seen.

His cock has grown pretty insistent about needing to be where his fingers are, so he speeds it up, twisting his fingers and making sure to rub them against Louis’ prostate so he’s just as ready as Harry is.

“Not sure that I want to, now,” Louis says with a surprising amount of sincerity. Not sincere enough to convince Harry that he’s serious, but sincere enough that Harry will have to suck up to him to get him to do it.

“Look so pretty naked,” Harry says, because if he can’t beat him he might as well distract him. He pulls his fingers out, done with the prep, and manages to find the lube and slap some on his cock.

Well. Not slap. More like gently stroke onto his cock, because he’s never lost an erection around a naked Louis and he doesn’t plan to start now.

“Pretty little nipples,” Harry says. He can’t give Louis a chance to get a word in or it’ll turn into some kind of competition, so he immediately follows it with, “Pretty mouth. Most attractive jawline I’ve ever seen, did you know that? Pretty arms, obscene muscle definition.”

Louis is definitely flushing, colour high in his cheeks, but he doesn’t protest, even when Harry hefts him up a bit so he can push in smoothly, and he always tries to claim that he hates when Harry manhandles him.

“I’m fucking gorgeous,” Louis says, gripping Harry’s shoulders as Harry fills him, inch by inch.

“Most beautiful thing that I’ve ever seen,” Harry agrees. There’s no way to describe that first feeling of getting his cock into Louis’ perfect bum when he’s been hard for what feels like forever, and if it was any other time he’d start thrusting right away, but he has something to make up for right now.

Once he’s all the way in, he stops, pushing Louis’ hair out of his face so he can kiss him again, even though Louis is still breathing through the stretch. It’s less of a kiss than it is Harry licking at Louis’ mouth, but it still feels amazing.

Kissing Louis will probably feel that amazing for the rest of his life.

“Don’t have to sweet talk me, you know,” Louis says quietly, once he’s adjusted to the stretch. His fingers are probably going to leave bruises on Harry’s back, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Harry rocks his hips a little, watching the way even the tiniest movement makes Louis’ lips part a little. “Baby, I’m pretty sure that if I didn’t sweet talk you you’d sell all of my shit online.”

“Need to keep the lifestyle that I’ve become accustomed to,” Louis says, and it doesn’t even make that much sense, but he’s got Harry’s lips quirking up anyway.

He feels sex-drunk, and he only has to take one look at Louis to know that he feels the same, flushed and nearly fucked out even though Harry’s just started fucking him. He looks gorgeous, Louis, and he always does but sometimes it just hits Harry way harder than it has any right to.

He would’ve thought that he’d be used to it, four years down the line.

Louis clenches down around his cock, and that’s as a good a cue as any to start moving, to start fucking the boy of his dreams, so Harry does - deep, slow thrusts that have Louis’ head tipping back against the pillows and his nails digging into Harry’s back.

“You feel amazing, Lou,” Harry says, because he feels like he has to tell him, has to tell him how he’ll always be the only one who can make him feel this way.

“Arse of gold,” Louis says, but he’s weakening and it’s not hard to tell. 

There’s always that one moment during sex when he stops being snarky and starts being sweet instead, and as much as Harry loves him for the sassiness there’s something to be said about being the only person he gets genuinely soft and lovely around. For.

“Turns you on, knowing that you’re the only one who’s ever been inside this arse, doesn’t it?” Louis continues, breathless and a little shaky. So much for thinking that he’s getting sweet.

He’s not wrong, though.

The best response to that is to fuck him harder, tipping his hips up so Harry can really give it to him, thrusting into him the way that he likes best.

Reminding Harry that they’ve only been together was definitely another ploy, but it’s another ploy that always works, so Harry crushes their mouths back together and completely ruins the kiss by mumbling vague, incoherent words that don’t even make sense.

Clearly it’s the exact response that Louis was going for, and there’s a part of Harry that hates how easy he is to manipulate, sometimes, but they’re too far in it to even matter, anyway. There’s no way that Harry isn’t coming in the next five minutes, and the only other thing he cares about is making sure that Louis gets there first.

There’s always one surefire way to ensure that happens.

“Turns you on, knowing that you got to me before I even got a chance to get a taste of anyone else, doesn’t it baby?” Harry asks. He sucks a kiss into Louis’ jawline, scruff irritating his mouth. It’ll probably be vaguely sore in the morning, a little bit irritated.

Not as sore as Louis is going to be, though.

Louis makes a vaguely pleading noise, one that always means that same thing. Harry drops one hand down to curl around Louis’ cock, using the other to keep hips tilted at a good angle. It leaves him counting on only his knees to keep his balance, but he can hold it for a few more minutes.

It’s harder to ignore how amazing his cock feels, thrusting inside of Louis’ arse, tight and slick, and it doesn’t matter how many times they do this - it’ll always feel a little bit like that first time, overwhelmingly good and like the pleasure’s going to knock him right out.

“Got such a pretty little body and everyone’s always lookin’ at you,” Harry says into Louis’ jaw, letting his teeth scrape across his skin a little because he knows that Louis likes it, “but it doesn’t matter, does it, because you’re always gonna come home to me, always gonna come home and wiggle your bum at me and let me open you up so I can put my cock in you, yeah?”

He strokes Louis’ cock carefully, making sure that it’s not too tight but not too loose either, exactly the way Louis likes it. There’s no lube, so the drag must be a little rougher than Louis normally likes it, but finding the bottle of lube would mean stopping and Harry can tell how close Louis is just by the cadence of his breathing.

“Like that too, knowing that no one can tell what you let me do to you just by lookin’ at you,” Harry says, swiping his thumb a little roughly over the head, “like knowing that when people look at you they might be imagining getting to fuck you but I’m the only person who’ll ever know what that looks like.”

Louis’ nails dig into his back a little harder. “Like being the only person you look for in a crowded room.”

“Like being the only person who’s capable of making me so angry and happy at the same time,” Harry says. He jerks Louis off a little faster, fingers getting wet from how much Louis is leaking. “Like knowing that even if you piss me off I’ll still come home and eat you out until you cry.”

“Like how much you make me laugh,” Louis says, which so isn’t appropriate for what Harry is trying to achieve.

Try telling that to his cock, though, which only throbs even harder, surrounded by slick, warm muscle.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” Harry says, thrusting in deep and staying there for a few beats, pressed up tight against Louis’ prostate, and that’s all it takes for Louis to start coming, eyes fluttering closed and mouth parting, spilling all over Harry’s fist.

Harry starts moving before Louis has finished coming, unable to wait any more. Louis makes a tiny, sensitive little noise, but it’s not the noise that means that he’s too sensitive, so Harry keeps going, thrusting deep and quick.

He can’t stop watching Louis’ face, drinking in his fill of Louis’ jaw and nose and eyelashes and the way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. If he could pry himself another few inches away from Louis’ mouth he probably wouldn’t be able to stop looking at Louis’ belly all covered in his own come.

There’ll be time for that later, though, so he concentrates on this, on how good it feels to have his cock buried in Louis’ arse, on how good Louis feels underneath him. 

Louis starts moving again, meeting Harry’s thrusts the best that he can in this position, and he looks languid and fucked out and happy and that’ll always get to Harry, that he’s the only person who’s ever made him look like this.

“I love you too,” Louis murmurs, blinking slowly, licking his bottom lip. Harry kisses him again and comes, fucking his way through it but not pulling too far out, making sure that his come is going to stay inside of Louis until he’s ready for it to come out, until he feels shocky and satisfied.

It definitely says something about them that they both came after they said _I love you_ , and it’s probably something embarrassing, but it’s hard to feel embarrassed by this, by how much they love each other.

He doesn’t realize that he’s been lying there, slowly crushing Louis into the mattress, until Louis starts shoving at his shoulder. “Come on, out, I wanna watch the X-Factor.”

Harry only laments it a little when he pulls out and rolls over, landing on his back on the sheets. Louis wiggles a little, in the way that means that he wants Harry to get up and get a cloth to wipe him down, but this will be the time that Harry makes Louis do it himself. It will.

“You know that if you want your cock sucked in the morning you’re gonna get it,” Louis says after a minute, pushing his bare toes into Harry’s ankle. “Harry. Haz. Babe. Love. You know you’re gonna do it.”

Harry suffers through another minute of Louis’ strangely cold toes jabbing into him before he sits up with a heavy sigh and swings his legs off the side of the bed. “I hate you.”

Louis’ wild cackle follows him all the way to the bathroom.

 

When he comes back, sweat mostly wiped off and with a warm, damp cloth for Louis in hand, Louis’ lying with his head at the foot of the bed, still unabashedly naked and lying on his stomach with his head propped up in his hands, telly already on and X-Factor blaring.

They’re so lucky that they don’t have neighbours close to them.

It makes for a really pretty picture, though, and Harry hums along with the telly as he perches himself on the edge of the bed and wipes at Louis’ bum with slow, gentle strokes. He doesn’t press his fingers inside to clean Louis out properly, mostly because Louis’ complaining would be entirely heart-felt if he did that while he was watching the X-Factor, but also a little because he wants to lie there watching telly together knowing that Louis is still leaking his come.

And speaking of come, it’s probably smeared all over the duvet from the way Louis is flopped all over it. Harry will have to wash it in the morning.

He can’t get to Louis’ belly like that, though, so he climbs onto the bed properly and settles himself with his back against the headboard, and it only takes about a minute for Louis to start shuffling around until he’s mostly in Harry’s lap, back pressed against Harry’s chest.

The contestant is singing Livin’ On A Prayer, and Harry mostly hums along to it, concentrating on cleaning Louis’ belly of all the come, even though it’s a good look for him. 

Mostly humming, that is, until - 

“Oh, we’ve gotta hold on, ready or not, you live for the fight when it’s all that you’ve got,” they belt out together. It’s really couple-y, and Niall hates it when they do it, but it happens all the time. They always sing the same part of a song if it’s not one that they’ve rehearsed.

Louis is pretty focused on watching the rest of the episode - or as focused as he ever gets while watching telly. Harry wisely keeps his mouth shut, but he’s already seen this episode, so it starts getting a little boring a few more minutes in.

His mind wanders, and he’s a twenty year old male, so of course his mind wanders to the frankly amazing sex that they just had, to how Louis’ bum must feel, sore from Harry’s hands, from his cock. How it’s still leaking his come, dribbling out of him slowly. How, if he plays his cards right, Louis will probably let him fuck him again after the show’s over.

It’s a long hour, waiting for the show to be over, prick steadily hardening just from the smoothness of Louis’ skin. Louis is really into the show, and it’s easy enough to slip a couple of fingers down in between his arse cheeks and feel how hot it is, how his come is slipping out.

Louis doesn’t even complain, which is part of the problem. Aside from a half-hearted elbow to the ribs, he doesn’t do anything, which means that Harry is free to sit there and feel him up while he watches his show.

Just because he’s not commenting on it doesn’t mean that he’s ignoring it, though, which is obvious from the way his cock is fattening up from Harry touching him.

There’s only another five minutes left of the show by the time Harry finally sinks two fingers back into him. Louis’ swallow is loud, even with the noise of the telly. His fingers tighten on his own thighs, but he doesn’t do anything, despite the flush Harry can see crawling up the back of his neck.

Harry hides his smile into Louis’ hair and breathes him in, moving his fingers slowly, languidly. He doesn’t have all the time in the world, despite how it feels, but he’s going to enjoy it while it lasts.

Louis clicks off the telly the second that the show is over, tossing the remote on the floor and lifting up off of Harry’s lap and, subsequently, off of his fingers. They feel cold instantly, wanting to get back into that heat.

“You’re a fucking prick,” he says, shoving at Harry’s shoulders like he’s trying to get him flat, even though he’s leaning against the headboard.

“You want my prick,” Harry counters, making a grab for Louis’ wrists and stilling him, just for a second, so they can kiss, before he flips them over, pinning Louis back to the bed.

Round two is just as good as round one.


End file.
